The Bedford gazette. (Bedford, Pa.) 1805-current, January 01, 1858, Image 1

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    BY IHEYERS A: BEDFORD.
WHOLE NO. 2777. VOL .53.
Select Poc t r 11.
The Well-Digger.
AN OWEU-TRI E BALLAD.
BY JOHN G. SAXE.
Come, listen all, while 1 relate
What recently betel
Unto a farmer down in Maine,
A While digging of a well.
Full many a "lay tie dug and delved,
And still tie vaii.;
"Alack!" quoth he, '-e'en water seerns
A Prohibited in Maine!"
still he dug and delved away,
And still the was dry ;
9'Hprrrhe only water to be found
Was in the tanner's eye:
For by the breaking of the bank
That tumbled from Its Marion,
All suddenly his hope was dashed
Of future liquidation!
And row hi? sands were running fast,
And he had died, no doubt,
Hut that juyt when the earth caved in,
lie happened to be out!
"Aha!—l have a happy thought!"
Exclaimed this wicked man—
"To dig anew this cursed well
• A 1 see a pretty piur. :
hide me straight, and when my wife
And neighbors know
What's bajPfel lo my digging here,
They'll think that I'm below!
"And >o, to save rny precious life,
They'll dig the well, no doubt,
Jven deeper than 'twas dug at lirst,
Before they hud meout!"
And so he hid him in the barn
Through all the hungry day,
To bide the digging ot hu well
In this deceillu! way.
But list what grief and shame befel
The false, ungrateful man,
The while he slyly watched to see
The working ol his plait:
The neighbors all with one accord
I nto each other said :
"With such a weight of earth above,
The man is suiely dead."
And then the wife, with pious care,
All needless cost to save,
iiaid—"Since the Lord hath willed it so,
Jp i-.'e" let it be las grave!"
[From Forney's Press.]
THE SONt-U RITERS OF ENGLAND
BY v 11A It LBS MACKAY.
Dr. Mackay opened Ins second lecture, on
Saturday, by saying that his lecture should be
devoted' exclusively to English song-writers.
There w ere no records of'ancient English poets.
A The rude songs ol those limes referred to war
1 and heroes, and had all perished except such as
V McPherscrs had gathered together, and rendered
in his peculiar Vityle, as the Songs of Ossian.
All the tradition® V the Celts were embaimed
in Saxon song. King Arthur and King Cole
still found favor. The King Arthur of history
was hut a mythical dream, while the King Ar
thur of poetry was a living reality.
During the early Norman period the min
strels played a veiy important part in every
sphere ot life. They combined the occupation
of modern editor and reporter with that of
musician and song-writer, giving all the latest
news, and putting into verse tile late horrible
murders, NiC. Rum: Hood and the Babes m the
Wood are ot unknown origin. I'lie utter"
has made the Robin Red-breast sacred in Eng
land, and he who kilted ot;e of tliein would be
hated by every body. If these little birds
knew how many of them have escaped death,
through the instrumentality of tins simple
ballad, they would warble the praise of the au
thor daily.
/Prewti ng the art of printing were the rial my
f days of mnstrelsy. Richard J- couldnot write
his own fume. (Query, Hume savs he wrote
poetry.) Nobles did not think it a sham- to be
unable to rnj or write. It is said that Richard
owed his rel-ase from imprisonment to a ballad
which he had composed and sung. When
printing was invented, minstrels began to de
cline, and very soon thev were classed among
strolling actors, and termed strolling vagrants.
A>new era of song-writers opened. Chaucer
was the m3st prominent. He sang "Merrie
England" amid wars and pestilence. B-for-
Chaucer a gentleman was incomplete unless h
could sing and write. Old songs sold at a pen
ny a yard—about live hundred fr a half-per
riy. H-nry \ll could find time between
fighting with Poj.es and su .jects to write songs.
But few songs of this period are extant ; this
was but the twilight of an era—the dawn aid
daylight were yet to come. When politics
were finally settled, (iav | ight ap|M . ared . Sp , :l .
ser and began to shed forth a new
light. There ar* a great number of old balla.is
of this period, too numerous l 0 mention— one
commencing
"Women are best
When they are at r<?9t," &..
is a libel on the fair sex : the Mariners Gj,*,
the oldest sea song in England. William Tail
ton and Martin Parker also wrote at tins tiirf.
The latter wrote "Ye gentlemen of fc.ngh.id
who live at ease," from which Campbell got
idea of "The Mariners of Eugland," the .est
song in the English language. of
the age of Shakspeare deserve the name of
poets. Beaumont, Fletcher, Bo Joman,
Thomas Havwooi, C. Marlow, T. Donn, Rich
ard Lovelace, are but a feu- of the great
Ben Jonson's po<tf are of beautiful delicacy.
Robert Herrick wrote a great many fine songs.
But Shakspeare vas the prince oi song-writers.
Ha l he not clios-n to be the greatest dramatist,
he have ben the greatest lawyer, the
greatest statesman-the greatest of anything.
The golden a T e >f lyrical poetry lived to be
immortal. Mill'", Waller, and Dry
den succeeded Shakspeare. Milton excelled
the rest, becausehe was a musician as well as
poet. He mighlhave been a great song-writer:
bnt he is too gre.t, too grand, to produce auc
tion we admtr*. revere him. Italian sweet
ness mixed with English strength needed little
to shake them ir.o melody.
Cow lev did n: excel, had 110 melody, could
not distinguish, I'ke Woidsworth, one tune
from another; 'is verses were very rugged.
Dryden's were better adapted to music, hut
not to decent sciety. He belonged to a had
and degraded mod—the Restoration. Men
felt it aliuty as well as pleasure to imitate all
the vices of otlvrs. Virtue was a jest. The
onlv maiilv vine was personal courage. Po
etry was 'consered aitificial, not natural
it disappeared and rhyming Lok its place.
Prior wrote lit sell down as a tmtor to poe.
try ; he was a >ady, anil wrote myine. Few
so'mrs of" this period are wnrti preserving.
"When this ol< cap was new" Lhowed lorlh
that peculiar ritish art of grutiiiing, which
the Puritans hrtight across the wean.
The period i Paganism succe-ded tiiat of
unblushing vie. Ev.ry lover wk a shepherd,
anti every lass *i Arcadian she pi .f dess. I here
was no such ting as love in iitei.ture. .\iar-
was refe ed to as the hviiytiial ailai
breezes Were C.led zephyrs iue liion Luna .
women, \ enu- Bacchus, tile goifof drunken
ness, was fbrevr appealed to by til' poet>. to
take Care by !he neck and him in a
punch-bowl.
Henry Gary, a good musician! but a poor
poet, liv : ed a'i'it this time. To hi*. the world
owes the sruiol tn ire than thiee hut Ired songs.
The music of ■Cod save the is attribut
ed to him, thogh some claim the credit for a
Dr. John Bel, of the Elizabethan era. ]t
ns, howevt, most probab!" that Cirey wrote
though (heig a Jacobite) he wai tot allow
ed to sing it. He committed suicide! n agarret
at an advanceiage.
Pope, Gay,aid Collins were esculent poets
of a later pf/otf. Tom Duffy also wiote a
great many sags, anil King Charles [I walked
arm in arm wth him through the pas, Insdogs
and courtier* following—the only! instance
where such alislioiruisherf [-rivilegefi-as ever
granted to a sng-writer. (jay, the aithor of
"The l>eggar|tOpera" and "Black Ey Susan,"
never wrote avthing more popular tfie
latter. It is ing more than any otheisong in
England, and jk>o these two ijis fame pfiocipui
ly rests.
David Gaiick, thougii iAt a soife-writer
wrote a sea sot g, which ;sa .Ws suia before
English sailorsengage in any '.ilion,ail which
lias inspired tiem to so many Vleeds L noble
daring. Thorson, author of tThe SJisons,"
wrote "Hole 'Britannia," the ■ isicot- which
was compose!/ by Dr. Arne, I nirnas 'ercv,
editor of ■•Pfcy's Reliipi-s," 1 | J a te-r, wrote
"Oil wilt thou go V |h 1n ,,? con .
sidered by mens the best in thl Englisf lan
guage.
( lUS. Di.)-I*ll \\'<lS tllf ! sjflcr-VV f -r ci 1
Hngland— am-s'cian and apj . Jli> >on<*s
wt r.-ol the ofc an, ,-alty. Thes lor is the na
tional hero iii2aoland—the s:4di r ranks below
him. Nelson was greater thai Wellington.
Dibden repreWited to the very ife the sailor,
and his songs! :heered their heart, and in manv
instances que]-d mutinies. His "Torn Bow- '
ling" is con stem! by some vuigi, but I tl ink i
it is far from it on tb- contrary, ita full of true I
manly feeling which louci.es t;4 heart with
kindness. Asa proof of DiWeii| popularity,
the Governor^.t reprinted his wuft some years
ago—the only instance of the kul on record.
He Jelt a son .ho followed close|| m his foot
steps. His sr.igs were in piaise i (he lut|e
Island he, likeail other Fugli-CmA so dearly
loved, little thmgh it he.
Campbell Wis one ol toe best Ing-vvriters.
"Iloheiiiinden"Exile <>t Biiij ivx., are
enough togivianv man lame. 1 ■ love soni's i
were not so .sutvssful. "GertrudeolV v iming"
may perish sotier or later, but hisivar songs
will live as kpg as England and Aili ica exist. ;
Capt. .M >r:s, who w rote u.ti hundred j
songs, Thos. Siley, who vrote ej.rtf hundred,
ought to be nJhtioned. Toe cat,tail sang his
own songs at j e royal table and th •; beeisteak
club. He wiie for a class, not I mil- people
and his songsjhve perished with it. |Had good
intentions, buj i.tent ions do riot 'na# a poet.
His songs areafete—dead—buried, j|
Bailey's relations is mort solid; H- was
railed Untterfl Bailev, on account fa song
of that name b wrote —some .-all e was a
butterfly. Hi love songs were latk.-fti-ical
redolent of peiumed handkerchief*, vjfhite kid
gloves, &.C. 1-. M. concluded his If ore bv
the recitation; < a little original po-i, which,
though not reti ring to the lecture, blcnged to
the subject of ugland. It WAS ENTITIW "THE
PRIMROSE," an was founded on the billowing
little incident:
There are n primroses in Austrlii, and,
some time ngo.t was announced that prim
rose had arri-d at Melbourne er.oi -d m a
glass case—at) a great turnout foil ve ( | to
see it. The ctvvd was so great that th police
with difficulty ,aite room to allow • to be
landed withoutlanger of being cms d. It
was aflerwanlseit on exhibition, and fought
a handsome s|i to its possessor. It flowed
the love of hoie and country so strong* cha
racteristic irvtb English, and be wood pre
sent it as such.
Ma who courted an inve|ig6tion,
says it isn't lialas good as an aflectioilMgirl.
We presume n.
k BEDFORD, PA., FRIDAY MORNING, JANUARY 1, 185a
"MKBItIIIN SHOES ''
He have seen j tl an ephemeral news
paper paragraph, M , ere , s a|| inscri . )tioi , () „
a tombstone in a a w yard, which
runs thus, M D.ed of Thin Shoes."
As we do not put ,/L,. con{idente in the j
truth of all the paragSfo;, igour ivjWe t() j
peruse, we are willing c lC ede that this may i
be so or may not be so. It, kes no , ndtler ._l j
"Died of thin shoes," , ij?hl , (hH h onest and !
veracious epitaph on th.usai,. of tomt)storn , s j
that bear a widely differ.,UOn The beautiful j
and crowded cemeteries, p*r. I | ar iy ) lv |uch !
are to he lound in the vie .nag* al | " )Ur A „ w . \
ncan cities, contain scores got \ ims tf) ,| lin j
shoes, lying in their cold, unw. n , r j
Our town ladies, as everybody ut are |
considerably more careful about tl CO stlin.-ss j
and elegance, than about the sense utility of
their apparel. We meet thetn on . , )U^|lC
street, arrayed as sumptuously and * v j| v ~s
if they weie on the floor of a brillianthhr. r J u ,j,
or at a fashionable and guv assembly.
One feels an irresistible inclination .( ire !
at the bedizened creatures as they
lingly by. Jt is vulgar and rude to stare. u(
how is one to restrain one's self fioin iiavi,, ;
pe. pal the fine sights? But the dainty fee,
our dashing belles are especially sacrificed
the altar, which, alas, is reared in almost evei \ V
female heart that beats in this latitude. Thoa
day may be a moist and rainy one. The pave,
may be covered with water or chequered with
puddles, or very damp indeed. Vet everv lit
tle moderately minute,or big foot which is cun*
ningly exposed to the entranced vision of the
pedestrians ol the other sex, will lie encased in
a delicate gaiter, or slipper the sole of which is
from one sixteenth to on- tenth of an inch in
thickness! In such flimsy shoes the worse than
silly young women tramp around,
"At all hours of the day.
And in ail kinds of weather."
Thev go out to spend the evening, whether
at a parlor party or a public entertainment, in
gossamer pedal attire, such as there would he
some excuse for wearing if they had to tread on
nothing hut a dry and soft Brussels carpel, and
would be exposed to no fitiul draughts ot vari
ously tempered air. By-and-bv a cold is con
torted, which grows heavier and more alarm
ing as it is dallied with and disregarded. Con
sumption, with all its distresses and terrors fol
lows, and there is one more ebbing life, and
one more early grave fiiied by the victim ol thin
shoes.
There is no fancy sketching about this. It is
a fact which a legion of the sons of St. Crispin
could attest that American women and particu
larly our young ladies, are constantly in the ha
bit of wearing shoes so light, as to he almost in
stantaneously penetrated with water. And we
verily believe that these miserably thin things
are, in a great measure, responsible for the fear
ful inroads, which are yearly made bv that fell
destroyer, consumption, upon trie ranks of the
feminine population of our great cities. Why
can't our ladies imitate their sensible English
sisteis, and wear stout, substantial wholesome
shoes, when th-y leave the house, even at the
risk of never hearing the smothered exclama
tion "Heaven ! what a foot !" nor the com
mon place compliments of the ball-room, which
are bestowed upon the owners of screwed and
pinched, but "tiny, tripping" feet?— Boston
Journal.
THE GRAVE.
Oh, the grave ! the grave ! It buries every
error, covers every defect, extinguishes every
resentment. From its peaceful bosom spring
none but regrets and tender recollections.—
Who can look down upon the grave even ol an
enemy, and not feel a compunctuous throb,
that ever he should have vvatred with the poor
handfull ol earth that lies mouldering before
him.
Hut the graves of those we loved; what a
place lor meditation ! Then it is that we call
up, in long review, the whole history and {vir
tue arid gentleness, and the thousand endear
ments lavished upon us almost unheeded in the
daily intercourse of intimacy, then it is that
we dweli upon the tenderness ot the parting
scene, the bed of death with all its stilled griels,
its noiseless attendants, • its mute, watchful assid
uities, I lie last testimonies of expiring love, the
f'eetile, fluttering, thrilling, oh ! low thrilling
the pressure of that hand, the fond look ol the
glazing eye, turning upon us even from the
threshold ol existence, tire faint, (altering ac
cents, struggling in death to give one more
assurance ol aflection.
Ay, go to the grave of buried love, arid medi
tate ! There settle the accounts with thy con
science for every past benefit unrequited—en
dearment unregarded ofthat departed being who
can never, never return to be soothed by thy
contrition !
If thou art a child, and hast ever added a sor
row to the soul or a furrow to the silver blow
of an affectionate parent, ll thou art a husband
and hast ever caused the fond bosom that ven
tured us whole happiness in thy arms, to doubt
one moment of tliv kindness or truth. II thou
art a friend, and ever wronged, in thought, word
or deed, the spirit that generously confided in
thee: if thou art a lover, and hast ever given
one unmerited pang to that true heart that now
lies cold and still beneath thy feet : then be
sure that every unkind look, every ungracious
word, every ungentle action, veil! come throng
ing back upon thy memory, knocking dolefully
at thv soul ; then be sure that thou wilt lie
down soriowiug and repentant on the grave, and
utter the unavailing tear, more bitter because
unheard and unavailing.
Then weave thy chaplet of flowers, strew
the beauties of nature about the grave, console
thy broken spirit, if thon canst, with these tender
yet futile tributes of regret ; but take warning
by the bitterness of this thy contiite affliction
over the dead, and be more faithful and affec
tionate in the discharge of thy duties to the liv
ing.— Irving
Freedom of Thought and Opinion.
I DESCRIPTION OF THE GI'LF STREAM
The general description of the Gulf Stream
is that of a vast, and rapid ocean current, issu
ing from the basin of the Mexican Gulf and
( nribbean sea, doubling the Southern Cape of
I lorida, pressing forward to the North East, In
a line almost parallel to the American coast ;
touching 011 the southern borders of the hanks
of New Foundland, and at some seasons par
tially passing over them ; thence, with increas
ing width and diffusion, traversing the whole
breadth of the Atlantic, with a central direc
tion towards the British Isles : and finally los
iit?, itself by still wider diffusion in the Bay of
Biscay, on our own shores, and on the long
line of the Norwegian coast. Its identity in
physical character is preserved throughout the
many thousand miles of its continuous flow ; j
the only change undergone is that of a degree, j
As its waters gradually commingle with those j
of the surrounding sea, their deep blue tint de-.
chnes, their high temperature diminishes, and j
the speed wjth which they press forward abates. j
But taking the stream in its total course, it j
well warrants the name of a "river in the!
ocean. Ibis epithet is, in truth, singularly !
appropriate to this vast current, so constant i
and continuous in its course, and so strangely j
detached from the great mass of ocean waters, I
'hich. while seemingly clel't asunder to give i
nth to its first impulse, are yet ever pressing !
nan it, gradually impairing its force and ties- i
p.ving its individuality.
I ' he maximum of velocity where the stream
aC* the narrow channel Rimini— which coin- :
j|fo*s its egress from the Gulf—is about lour
I* an hour: off Cape Hattera, in North
W' a ! where it has gained a breadth of!
Tg-five miles, its velocity is reduced to
On the parallel of the New
j|| tl Banks, it is larther reduced to one !
' j.'TLlf miles an hour, and this gradual
I '„ t qM 'f force is continued across the At- j
' d r MV e e,,, f > ** ra * ure * °' '''e current on- ,
'"m'imilar change. The highest ob- j
■ I jj rVe m l '' 8b deg. Fah. Between Cape
i j 3 ' l r ' Foundland, though lessen-
I er ut ar< W'- l | 1 e warmth of the stream in
w i.i.e r j ()r above that
V' '' ' p C 'TI' !I Jh which it flows.—Eilin
burgh Aero*. 3
iIISINEs|L ITS (jp AAROX HI RR.
I r - ailon work on Burr gives the
; following;ketd>Y ll:uly habits in the lat-!
; ter part ot his lit* u> , |u . author l#y J
a gentleman who* ,• • r>,,„ :
w : some time in ntiirs
office : T|
* '1" at t.i>' A breakfast of an
egg and a cup of Ct ®j U !ficed fur this mo-t
a slemious cl m"nL r he worked
among his papeis fi :|L ,- n||H before his clerk
| and assistants arrived., as a hard task-master ■
lie "kept us all upon ju l;l p. All day he !
was dispatching and 1 messages, sending
i lor nooks, persons ami expecting every I
command to he obeyed n-xt to impossible
| celerity, inspiring ev vvi!ll hjs ow . n
zeal, and getting a surpr.l quantity of work
accomplished. "He wa incarnate,"
said my informant. Abo<; n j„ the evening ;
lie would give over, invit-j s companions to
| to the sideboard, and take a r| a ss of wine.
, Then his spirits would rise"i h Z wou |d s jt I
( for hours telling stories ol pa>( an j
drawing brief and graphic stches of cele
hiated characters with had acted.
Often he was lull of vit at a j Hv a , suc h i
limes, "the liveliest fellowmfje world:"!
'•as merry as a boy "ne* melancholy" I
never ill-natured." About or | a ter. !
lie would lie down upon a j n !
corner of his office, and sleep li H (.{jjjp until i
the morning. Jn his personalty was |
a thorough going Spartan eatin t t|e drink
ing little, sleeping little, He'
was fond of calculating upon how a || a surn j
i life could be supported, and vised think he ;
could live well enough upon seven: V e cents '
a week.
A GUILTY ( O.VSCIK.NCI
One of the most memorable pass;. e yer ■
; littered by Mr.-Webster, was in vindiu n of
the authority of conscience and of Pro. nc ,
on a trjal for a dark and mysterious 'der.
"The guilty soul cannot keep its own ret.
I Jt is false to itself, or rather it feelsan irqj.
I ble influence to he true to itself. It
| der guilty possessions, and knows not ,t
to do with it. The human heart was not rt
; for the residence of such an inhabitant,
finds itself preyed upon bv a ;torment whic,
does r.ot acknowledge to God or man. A vi
lure is devouring it, and it can ask no svmpall
on earth. The secret which the murder
i possesses, soon comes to possess him : and li
j the evil spirit of which we read, it overcom
him, and lead* him whithersoever it will.
He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his |
throat and demanding disclosure. He thinks I
the whole world sees it in his lace, reads it in his i
eves, and almost hears its workings in the very j
silence of his thoughts. It has become his mas- I
ter. It betrays his discretion, it breaks down j
his courage, it conquers his prudence. When j
suspicions from without begin to einbarass him
and the net of circumstances to entangle him,
the fatal secret struggles with still greater vio
lence to burst forth. It must be confessed ;it
wilt be confessed ; there is no refuge from con
fession but suicide; and suicide is confession."
STF"''Fellow-sinners," said a preacher, "if
you were told that, by going to the top of those
stairs, yonder"—pointing to a rickety pair at
an end of the church—"you might secure your
eternal salvation, I really hardly beliew any of
you would try ; but let any man proclaim there
j were a hundred dollars up there for you, and I'll
! guarantee there would be such a getting up
I stairs as you never did see."
8JF""I am going to draw this beau into a
knot," as the lady said when standing at the
' hymeneal altar.
ORIGINAL ANECDOTE OF GEN. JACK
SON.
In one of our Indian campaigns, which, not
recollected, nor material to our story, whilst the
army was on its march, still in TVnnpsspp, on
its way to the seme of war in AaTLama, a
drafted company was expected daily to over
j take the main body of troops. This company
at length reached the rear of the train.
Information of their approach was immedi-
I ately carried to I fie front, where Jackson was
iat the time. A s the messenger passed from
| rear to front, the fact that the company was
without arms, having (eft their guns at home,
j was made known all along the line. It was
kown to the entire army before it reached Jack-
I son's ears. Curiosity was on tiptoe to know
i how the irascible commander would act under
: such circumstances. A storm was anticipated.
! Soon the General was observed making his
way rapidly to the rear, and to (he surprise
of all parties, seemingly in rather a
mood.
Finally he met the company. lie saluted
them. They look for a volley of course, and
an immediate dismissal home—the very thing
they desired. Not so, however. Old Hick
ory pulled off his hat, and with the politest and
lowest bow, expressed his gratification at their
arrival, and especially at the fact that they had
no arms. Forming them for rapid motion, at
double quick step, under his own lead, they
marched on till a baggage wagon was reached
then halted, and each man furnished with
an axe. Forward march again was the word.
As they passed along the line of march the
General's object was seen, and laughter loud
and uprnrious with many a hearty cheer, salut
ed tiiPinas they made their way to the front.
There these axe men were at once initiated into
their campaign duties. They cleared the roads,
they bridged tlie creeks, or carried the wagons
piece by piece, the baggage, ammunition, Stc.
over on their hu< k,, bridges were impassi
ble. T hey were ever in a post or u., h ..,
irig the burdens of the campaign—sharing none
of its honors—the laughing stock of the whole
army.
A True Sportsman.
One of tiie New York Herald's correspond
ents has met in the Far West with that great
Irish sportsman Sir George Gore, whose hunt
ing adventures in the Rocky Mountains con
j ducted as they were upon a gigantic scale for !
: the amusement of one man, probably exceeded
anything of the kind ever before attempted on
this side the Atlantic. Everythingthat a sports
ma could possibly require, in ttie way of shoot
ing, fishing, eating and drinking, was provided
in the greatest profusion, ami all tiansported in
safety to the theatre of his exploit. He says :
Some faint idea mav he formed of the magni
tude of his equipment when I tell you that his
; extensive retinue contained a secretary, assis
tant secretary, clerk, guide, llv-maker, hunters,
cooks, &.C., &.C., in all numbering about fifty
men, with thirty wagons, numerous saddled
hors>'s, dogs, &.c., and supplies to correspond.
Sir George leinained nearly three years in this
| country, and, with the exceptions of one winter,
which he spent near Fort Laramie, was entirely
; secluded from the world, and most assiduously
j engaged in his favorite sport of hunting. An
| accurate account of the amount of game "bag
! ge<l" was kept by his clerk, and during one sea
son the results weie as follows: 122 grisly
j bears, 5,f>00 buflaloes, besides numerous elk,
I black-tailed deer and antelope—in all amount
i ing to the enormous aggregate of three thousand
| animals, none of which was smaller than the
antelope.
i 1 had the pleasure of meeting this modern
1 Nimrod in St. Louis, and was highly entertain
j ed with a narration of his exploits, which aimosl
| equal those of Gordon Cumming in Africa.
He also showed me his equipment of beanti
i ful guns of various patterns and calibres, suited
; !o the destruction of all kinds of game from a
j snipe to a grisly bear, and among them lobserv
i ed the names of Prudy, Manton, and other cel
ebrated makers. His outfit must, indeed, have
i been most complete.
After becoming cloyed with sport in the
! mountains, and killing every variety of the
largest and most formidable animals found there,
Sir George proposes to winter in Texas, and
amuse himself in hunting deer and other small
game.
He brings with him a host of trophies which
will furnish him ample vouchers for liispeifor
; mances.
1 Some of our worthy and staid citizens of
'Gotham will probahlv think it a very singular
''infatuation lor a gentleman possessing a pi ince-
Tt V estate, with an income of §200,000 per ari
to voluntaiilv withdraw from all society,
nes j incarcerate himself in the depths of the
Iderness among savage men and beasts for
"e long years, exposed to all perils and pri
| ons consequent upon such a condition.
THE SIZE OF MAN
| : s a vet v common opinion that, in the
I eaages of the world, men in general jes
ses; superior physical properties, and were
of ger size than at present. But all the
facts! circumstances that can be brought
forw.on this subject tend to show that the
humaorm has not degenerated, and that
men ce present age are of the same stat
ure as he beginning of the world. 1 bus,
i ail the ains of the human body, the bones,
j and parlarlv the teeth, which have been
. found uanged in the moat ancient urns
and bui places, demonstrate this point
i clearly, e oldest coflin in the world is
that founuthe great pyramid of Egypt : and
this sarcopus hardly exceeds the slZ e of our
j ordinary ct,being six feet and a half long.
That we arrt degenerating fiom the effects
of civilizatio clear, because the savages do
not exceed u height.
U^Hope-sentiment exhibited in a dog's
tail when war for 8 bone.
TERMS, PER YEAR.
NEW SERIES VOL l r NO. 22.
" 1 Cj nin or on s.
t Not Had
t> 'First class in oriental philosophy stand up.
! Thihitts, what is life V
i 'Lite consists ol money, a hoss and a fashiona
. ble wife.'
r 'Next. What isdeath V
'A paymaster, who settles everybody Ydebts,
. and gives the tombstones as receipts in full of
- all demands.'
i 'What is poverty ?'
. 'The reward ot merit genius generally ;e
--ceives from a discriminating public.'
'What is religion ?'
'Doing unto others as you please without al
lowing a return of the compliment.'
'What is fame V
'A six-line pufTina newspaper while liv
ing, and your fortune to your enemies when
dead.'
BOUND TO RIDE. —Two juveniles (says the N.
O. Picayune,) belonging to that particular class
of the unwashed who, in the absence of either
tickets or sma 11 change, are prone to accomplish
short journeys on the tail-boards of omnibuses,
were recently traveling up Camp-street, occt>-
pying their tavorite place on one of the vehi
cles, when, by the sudden opening of the door,
one of them was knocked heels over head into
the mud. He picked himself up quickly how
ever, and in a moment he had regained his old
place—addressing his companion with : "I say,
Jim, they'se no business to have these cussed
doors on the homnibuses, but yer see wat acci
dents they cause to passengers. Tse in hopes
they'll make some improvements in the build
ing ov 'em, so 'twill be more safer for us, but
I'm bound to ride any how."
SWAPPING WIVES.—The Hightstown (New
Jersey) Excelsior says : "We were told by a
friend of ours, a few days since, of a most singu
lar result of the propensity to trade. A colored
St ate came SSiu!" rom a distant part of the
and, before departing, they v, s-U.9.?I ls ri . en£ !, s '
enamored of each other's partners. In lni
state of affairs, a proposition toexchange wives
was made, which, mutually agreeable, was ac
ted upon without further consideration. The
visitor returnedjhome with a new wife, and the
generous host acknowledged it a "fair swap,"
while his new cnrnsposa has furnished him in
dubitable evidence of her earnestness in the
matter.
KpTr was at a pic-nic : Charley had just
turned of nineteen years : he wandered away
and got lost with Kate Harcourt, a sell-possessed
beautv in high condition for tlirting, for she
had had three seasons of hard training. When
they had been away from their party about two
hours, she felt, or pretended to feel, the awk
wan .less of their situation, and asked her cav
alier, in a charmingly helpless and confiding
way, what they were to do. 'Well, I hardly
know,' said Charley, languidly ; 'but I don't
mind proposing to you, if that will do you any
good.' A fair perlormance for an untried colt,
was it not ?— Guy Livingston.
Ofp""Sam, how are all the folks at home ?"
"Oh so middling, only mothpr fell off the
hay loft the other morning and broke her
arm."
"Is it possible!"
"True, but that wasn't the worst : she had
three eggs in her hand and broke all but
two!"
OTP^Teacher —"How many kinds of axes are
there ?"
Boy— "Broad axe, narrow axe, post axe,
axe of the Legislature, axe of the Apostles, and
ax my pa!"
Teacher—"Good! go to the head of your
class 1"
f£p*Miss Brown, I have been to learn how
to tell fortunes," said a young man to a brisk
brunette. "Just give me your hand, if you
please." "La, Mr. White, how sudden you
are ! Well, go ask pa.
0!P"A ladv was requested by a bachelor who
was somewhat advanced in years, to take a
seat on his lap while in a crowded sleigh.—
"No thank von," said she, "I'm afraid such an
old seat would break down with me." Old
bachelor looked funny.
Qp"i am not afraid of a barrel of cider," said
a toper to a temperance man. "I presume not,"
was the reply ; "from your appearance, I guess
a barrel of cider would run at your approach."
Qp-Fn Eye ENTERS of concerts who are in the
habit of beating time with their feet, are re
minded that the stamp act was repealed many
years ago.
QjP"WHAT is the difference between a woman
who tears her dress and one who pads ? One
busts her stuff, and the other stuffs her bust.
[CP* THE W es'.ern papers say that the Illinois
River has lowered a foot. When it lowers the
other foot, we suppose it will cease to run.
l£p"At a husking frolic "down east," lately
two hundred bushels of golden yellow corn were
husked, forty-eight girls kissed, one couple mar
ried, and seven more "engaged," all in one even
ing. Talk of stagnation in business!
KP*"Of the six hundred and twenty young
lidies who fainted last year, more than half
of them fell into the arms of gentlemen.
Only three had the misfortune to fall on the
floor.
Op 5 " A popular preacher received so many.,
pairs of slippers from the female part .of, hr 1
congregation that he got to himself
centipede. j/f
IXP*Pants procured on tick '
ed'breches of tru